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Twelve C
Ch.0: Arvid Seibers

Ch.0: Arvid Seibers

Chapter 0: Arvid Seibers

I had always been the master of swords, and he the master of words. But in this instant, no words could save me—no clever turn of phrase, no comforting wisdom.

"I would suggest you stand down, for if you do not, I will have no choice but to—"

Before his sentence could be finished, I lunged, the sword flashing in the dim light to slice through the air toward his chest. The steel met resistance, but my heart did not flinch any more than the blade in my hands. I locked my gaze with his, refusing to waver.

"I am going to ask something of you, and you will be truthful about your answer." My voice was low, drawing the silence in with the razor-sharpness of my sword.

This time—before I could finish, he pushed himself up, trying to put up a fight against me.

I dodged his lazy attack easily as he had injured his hand before and pinned him down against the ground.

He lay there helpless.

"Kill me if you want to," he whispered, undaunted. "And not a word shall I utter until he finds himself where he needs to be. But that is only if you can pose any threat to me."

"Where is my brother?" I asked, not answering his challenge.

"Kill me if you wish." He repeated.

"What did you take him for?"

"Kill me if you wish," he said again, as if his words had become a gramophone record—broken, maddeningly echoing, "Kill me if you wish. If you wish. If you wish. Kill me."

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"Kill me if you wish."

"Kill me if you wish."

"Kill me if you wish."

"Kill me if you wish."

I clenched my teeth in frustration as it boiled over. No matter how much I pushed and twisted his arm for answers, nothing came from him, just that stubbornly repetitive mantra.

"God, the Truncus territory is full of crazy people like you," I spat, anger rising. "It was back then, and it sure seems like it still is…"

My blade bit deep with my arm swinging in a smooth, single motion. I felt his flesh and bone for maybe a second before his head tumbled to the earth, coming to rest against the side of the ancient, gnarled tree behind him.

There was silence after that.

Lifting my two fingers to my lips, I released a sharp, echoing whistle that sliced through the silence.

⧫⧫⧫

I heard the call.

I heard it full well—the call of a summon by one of the Seibers.

Well, the only Seibers.

In accordance with the oath, I got ready to fly in response to his call. It would take precisely about 20 minutes from the Wing’s Rest to the place of the summon.

I took flight at a precise speed. As tiring as it was, I loved flying.

From green terrain to the sandy desert.

From the sandy desert to the chilly cold Himalayas.

From one territory to the other.

The sky belonged to us.

As I flew north from the Wing’s Rest through the dense, green forest, I decided to descend as I was near the destination.

I could smell the stench of blood and the scent of crops.

I descended even further and saw a man—his long black hair reaching his shoulders, wet with blood and sweat. The man stood there with his swords among the corpses that lay around him.

Waiting for me stood Arvid Seibers.

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